ttS9, 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Uiap..__.._. Copyright No 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



HEART AND HOME BALLADS 



HEART 



AND 



Home Ballads 



A BOOK OF NEW ENGLAND VERSE 



BY 



JOE CONE 



ILLUSTRATED. 



NEW ENGLAND 

New England first, New England last. New England all the time ; New 
England bound in stately prose, New England clad in rhyme : New 
England quaint, New England rare. New England proud and free, New 
England for the rich and poor. New England e'er for me * * * New Eng- 
land honored far and wide, New England staunch and true: New England 
fought for God and right, as she will always do. New England, freedom, 
liberty, historical and grand. New England, cradle of the just, the well- 
spring of our land * * * New England first. New England last. New Eng- 
land all the time. New England clad in graceful prose. New England sung 
in rhyme; New England quaint. New England rare, New England fair to 
see. New England once. New England twice, New England three times 
three I 



PKF.SS OF 

I.. E. SMART 

CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 
.899. 



TO THE FEW 

The author has no apologias to offer as they zvouldn't be 
understood, any more than will the poems he now collects for 
the first time. 



39558 

COPYRIGHT, 1899. 
BY JOE CONE. 









To my father and mother. New Englanders stauuch 
and true, who have done so much for me and for 
whom I can do so little, I lovingly dedicate this, my 
first book. 



_r 



[ Many of the poems in this volume are used 
through the courtesy of The National Magazine, The 
Boston Courier, Puck, Truth, The New York Herald, The 
Sunday World, The Detroit Free P> ess, and The Dramatic 
News. The poems, "Two Boys," "Mary Ann," 
' ' Sinking The Merrimac, " " The Battleship Oregon, ' ' 
" Pick'relin' On L,izzard Crick," and " Popperty's 
Girl," were written for this volume and have never 
before appeared in print. ] 



\'(>n take the croicn/et/ city sffcefs. 

With life and shops ji^a/o/r : 
J 'II take the little -aHHulIaiul patlis 

Doivn In' the river shore. 
) 'oit take the pitl>lic ^aniens cohere 

All is arraiij^eti In' plan : 
J 'II take the scenes laid out by Goil, 

.Inil nnilistiirheil by man. 

3 'on take the fountain on the hncn. 

And listen to its tale : 
/ 'II listen to the little brook 

That iniirniiirs throi/ii^h the Tale. 
) 'o/t live the artijicial life, 

.And I will live the real : 
^Ind joy loill ei>nie to me in mine 

'J'hat vo/trs ran ne'er reveal . 



CONTENTS 



Pk()i:m, . . . . . 
l""R().\'risrii:ci:. 

Ji;\l CoULTKl-i'S \'lOLI-\, 

Bv Axi) Bv 

Dkivixc. H()-M)'; Till': Cows. 

JrsT Tin-; Samjc Today. 

Boyhood Days, 

Two Boys, .... 

My Yki.lkk Licc.ckd Ristkk. 

Salmon Rivick, 

My Daddy's X'ioi.ix, 

Dad's Bic. Mki.ox Patch. . 

IvrCrEXK Field, 

Kkkp Ox a Fish IX, 

FvKKY Day, 

A Drka.m Ok Lizzard Crick, 

DoNVx Ox Thk Mil, I, Stream, 

Lahok To Cai'itai,, 

Bii.i.y lUzzKY, . 

vSix(i A vSoxc. 

The vSimmer Felieix'. 

My Oi,' Dad, 

Not a Caxdidate, . 

1'ick'ri;i. Ix \\'ixti:r. 



7 

lO 

II 
i6 
. iS 
20 
22 

^^ 

. 26 

2.S 

■ r^o 
32 
35 
36 
37 

3« 

• 41 
43 

• 44 
46 

• 47 
49 

• 51 
53 



1' \(;k 

Makv Ann. . . . . . . -54 

Fishtn' By An' li\\ ..... 57 

With Mahki., Xuttinc, . . . ■ 5>S 

The Biinikhv Timi;, ..... 59 

Dad's Oi,' CtRindstonk, . . . . .60 

vS MILKS And Tears, . . . . . 61 

The Times That Used To He, . . .62 

PiCKRELix" On Lizzard Crick, . . ^5 

Natire's Instrument, . . . . 67 

CHILDHOOD POKMS. 

A CtOOD Nk'.ht vSonc, .... 70 

Poppertv's Girl, ...... 72 

Her Old Rihher Doll, .... 74 

A Brave Litte Soldier, . . . -75 

The Actor's Child, ..... 76 

WAR POKMS. 

SiNKiNC. The Merriim.vc, . . . .83 

Remember The Maine, .... 86 

The Gungawamp War Prophet, . . -87 

A Late Volunteer, ..... S9 

Volunteer Jim, . . . . . .90 

Some Hard Qi'estions, .... 92 

Keep Her Steady, Mr. Pilot, . . -93 

The Battleship Oregon, .... 94 




^ 



.^ 



JIM COULTER'S VIOLIN. 

I. 

Jim Coulter was a farmer's boy of fifteen summers 

just. 
His form was clad in " older clothes," his face and 

feet in dust. 
But Jim was smarter than he looked, and music was 

his bread. 
" Could play a tune on anything," so all the neigh- 
bors said, 
" An' stid uv hangin' round the stores or larkin' with 

the rest, 
Wus alius makin' instruments fur which he seemed 

persest." 
But Jim had trouble from a source you scarce would 

ever guess ; 
His father laughed and poohed and scoffed at all such 

foolishness ; 
And presently became so harsh that Jim was forced 

to steal 
Away each time he wished to work or plaj' a jig or 

reel. 
" This farm work must be carried on," Jim's father 

said one day, 
" An' any traps o' your'n I find I'll smash without 

delay ! ' ' 



12 JIM coi'i,tp:r s violin 

Jim had no tender comforter. — she slumbered "neath 

the hill : 
And so he delved upon the farm with saddened face 

and still. 
lUit boyish dreams and boyish hopes could not be 

driven in ; 
Jim stole away on rainy days and made a violin. 

"A crude affair?" why to be sure, but marvelous 

for Jim, 
And brought to light the hundreth time that genius 

lurked in him. 
And Jim was justly proud of it and kept it hid 

away , 
But Farmer Coulter's search for eggs unearthed it 

'neath the hay. 

He fumed and raved and raised it high to dash upon 

the floor, 
Then dropped his arm in partial shame and looked it 

o'er and o'er. 
"No. no," said he, "I can't do that, but he will 

never see 
This cussed piece uv foolishness, not while he lives 

with me." 

Not many hours went by before Jim found his treasure 

gone ; 
He threw himself upon the ha>- too tearful and 

forlorn. 
Then slowly rising, full of wrath, his soul ablaze 

within. 
Demanded of the cruel man his little \iolin. 



JIM cori/rKK s VIOLIN 13 

Yewr violin, yew lazy scamp?" the angry fanner 

cried ; 
Yew might as well ask me lur wealth an all the 

world beside." 
Then," cried the boy with flashing eye, his form 

drawn tall and thin. 
You'll never see my face again till I've that violin ! " 



11. 



Ten years went by but not a word 
From Jim had Farmer Coulter heard. 
At first he cursed the vagrant Jim, 
And had as soon be rid of him. 

But as old age o'ertook the man 
He lost contentment in his plan. 
And on the kitchen wall he hung 
The little violin unstrung, 

In hopes that Jim some day might call 
And guess its mission on the wall. 
But he came not ; another year 
Went by and he began to fear 

That Jim would never come again ; 
And broader, deeper, grew his pain. 
Long lines of care marked deep his brow, 
His hair and beard were snow white now 



14 JIM coulter's v^iolin 

While strolling o'er the hill one day 
He saw a Boston paper lay, 
In careless folds upon the grass, 
Where mountain tourists often pass. 

And glancing o'er this caught his eye : — 
" In Music Hall, assisted by 
'James Coulter's famous western band. 
" A mammoth, summer concert, grand ! " 



III. 

An anxious crowd pressed round the door 

Of Music Hall that night ; 
Without, was naught but push and roar, 

Within, was gay and light. 

The famous band was on the stage. 

Conductor Coulter bowed ; 
And then a man infirm with age 

Sobbed "Jim, oh! Jim," aloiul. 

For there he stood his long-lost boy. 
So grand and proud and tall ; 

Conducting that big orchestra 
In Boston Music Hall. 

The clashing strains rose wild and strong. 
Then echoed strangely sweet ; 

And Farmer Coulter borne along, 
Grasped firmly to his seat. 



jiiNi coulthr's violin 15 

He could not understand the spell, 

Nor where 'twas taking him ; 
And little cared, the truth to tell, 

P'or was he not with Jim ? 

When all was o'er, the music hushed, 
And Heme Sweet Home was sung. 

The farmer to the platform rushed. 
And to a parcel clung. 

And with a glow upon his face 

Like one released from sin. 
He sobbed aloud with his embrace :^ 

" Here — Jim's — yewr violin ! " 



BY AND BY. 

By an by I'll git my pole. 

By an by. 
There'll be heaven in my soul. 

By an by. 
I will steal away frum ma 
Down to where the fishes are ; 
I will spit upon my hook, 
An I'll drop it in the brook, 

By an by. 

Ma will miss me frum the yard 

By an by. 
vShe will holler lor me hard. 

By an b\ . 
But the gurgle uv the stream 
Like enough will drown her scream 
An I'll fish an fish awa\' 
Where the speckled beauties la\\ 

By an b>-. 

If I ketch a likely mess 

By an b\-. 
Ma will smile with happerness 

Bv an h\ . 



15 V AND 15 V 

But — 
It I he\- an empty creel 
Somehow I kin sorter feel 
How that apple sprout will danct 
On the seat uv my ol pants, 
Bv an bv ! 




DRIVING HOMK THE COWS. 

Along the shady country road at silent eventide, 
Which wound half choked by running vines and 
overhanging boughs, 
Down to the distant pasture, oft we loitered side 
by side. 
Sweet Jessie Doane, we t\\o alone, behind the lazy 
cows. 

'Twas sweet that hour at eventide, 'twas sweet to be 
with her. 
And tender were those thoughts of mine her pres- 
ence did arouse ; 
And I loved her, yes, I loved her, with a passion all 
astir. 
For she was fair, and none were there, while driv- 
ing home the cows. 

And so we trod the country road each fading summer 
day. 
And through the autumn when the frost had 
painted red the boughs ; 
And still I feared to tell her what my heart bade me 
to say, 
For fear she might not come again, to stroll behind 
the cows. 

18 



DRIVING HOME THK COWS 



19 



But as the heart commands the tongue, ere long I 
spake the word, 
And sweetl}' did she turn to me with lovelight 
'neath her brows, 
And say that she would have me, — sweetest tones I 
ever heard ! — 
Providing she each night with me could stroll 
behind the cows. 




^^ 









—.-J' 



<^ 



JUST THE SAME TO-DAY. 

I. 

Just the same are things to-da}- 
As in da^-s long passed away, 
I can hear those sounds I cherish when I pause to 
list awhile ; 

Just the same are sweet birds singing, 
Just the same soft cow-bells ringing, 
Rhyming, swinging. 
Chiming, singing, 
As when I used to wander to the river through the 
stile. 

Refrain : 

Just the same can I hear, 

Boyhood sounds all so dear. 
If I pause awhile to listen to their charm ; 

And once more I seem to be 

Just a blithsome bo}' so free, 
A-roaming through the wildwood on the farm. 

II. 

Just the same the river flows 
Where the wild carnation grows, 
I can .see its winding azure when I clo.se ni}- eyes to 
dream ; 

20 



JUST THE SAME TO-DAY 21 

Just the same are lillies growing, 
Just the same soft breezes blowing, 
Swaying, flowing, 
Playing, blowing, 
As when I gathered mosses from the bank beside the 
stream. 

Refrain : 

Just the same can I hear 

Boyhood sounds all so dear, 
If I pause awhile to listen to their charm ; 

And once more I seem to be 

Just a blithsome boy so free, 
A-roaming through the wildwood on the farm. 




BOYHOOD DAYS. 



O take me back to the bo3'hood days, 
To my boyhood's happy dreaming; 

To the leaf-clad hills and the rhythmic rills 
Where the sun-kissed stream lay gleaming. 

take me back to the golden days, 
To the simple jo3-s I tasted ; 

For an older life in this toil and strife 
Is a life grown cold and wasted. 

I've tasted the fruits of middle age, 
I have found them tart and bitter ; 

1 have found that fame and a lauded name 
Is onl)- a passing glitter. 

So take me back to the boyhood time, 
Where the great ghost life is hidden ; 

And lose me there in the woodland fair 
Where grief and care are forbidden. 



TWO BOYS. 



Sile Grover lived in (iungawainp an farmed it more 

or less ; 
Fur forty year he'd tilled the soil with more or less 

success. 
He lived a quiet, humly life, an alius paid his bills. 
An took no int'rist in affairs beyend his stretch uv 

hills. 
He labored hard an labored long, an dug a livin 

out, 
An met the stormy da>s uv life with honest heart an 

stout. 
No burnin flame harrassed his soul, ambitions none 

had he. 
He lived the highest type uv life, rare, sweet sim- 
plicity. 
He went tur church an Sunda>- school, an hed a class 

uv bo\s. 
An counted keepin well the days ermong his simple 

joys. 
An when he some tur die his end wuz peaceful ez 

could be. 
His work wuz done, his life well spent, frum sin an 

sorrer free. 



24 TWO HOY.S 

He lived the highest type uv life, the great an holy 

plan, 
An when he died he died at peace with God, himself 

an man. 



Tom Jason left his father's farm at sixteen years uv 

age 
Tur dash his name with boyish haste ercrost the 

city's page. 
The country was too slow fur him, an tho' he 

worshipped Sile, 
He couldn't stay in Gungawamp, it lied no dash an 

style. 
He found a place an went tur work, an rose ez bright 

boys do, 
An j'ined the firm at twenty-one, a hustler through 

an through. 
No scheme wuz big enough fur him tur handle any- 
time, 
No hour wuz late enough tur work ef he could gain 

a dime ; 
No sum wuz big enough tur save, an so each year 

tur come 
He tried with all his might an main tur double every 

sum. 
Ambitious, full uv youthful fire, he entered poller- 

tics, 
An snatched a moment now an then fur clubs an 

social cliques. 



TWO HOVS 25 

A busy man Tom Jason wuz, " a hustler through an 
through," 

Furever strivin after gain, furever in a stew : 

An tho he wuz successful, ez the world looks on 
success. 

At thirty year his health broke down frum overwork 
an stress. 

Deprived uv his great hope in life he sank in rapid 
pace, 

An died a-cryin out fur gold tur save him frum dis- 
grace. 



Two stuns p'int straight at heaven's blue in Gunga- 

wamp's church yard ; 
One over in the corner an one on the boolevard. 
One is a stylish monument, a grandlike thing tur see. 
An one a modest three-foot slab without no fiUergree. 
One is Tom Jason's monument, an one Sile Grover's 

stun, 
Two boys, clus frens fur sixteen year, whose lives so 

diffrunt run ; 
One representin dash an style an stress an worriment. 
The other, peace an good ol age, an humble life 

content. 



MY YELLER LEGGED RUSTER. 



I hed a little ruster once, 

A cur' lis little feller ; 
His tail warn't grovved, nur wuz his spurs, 

But both his laigs wuz yeller. 
He'd tag me all eroun the farm. 

Could fight, an alius win it ; 
Could lick a ruster twice ez small 

In less'n ha'f a minute. 



'At ruster? He kuowed ever'thing. 

You couldn fool him, nuther ; 
Would scoot frum sight when pa come roun 

But warn't afeerd o' mother. 
An I. I planned a big career 

Fur 'at air perk}- chicken. 
An hed 'im roun the house so much 

'At I come nigh a lickin. 

But one thing he wuz backards in, 

An 'at wuz on his crowin ; 
He is.'oiildn'' t crow, an air he wuz 

Purt big an still a-growin. 

-Mi 



-AIV V]:i,LKK LKCaiKI) RrSTKK 



27 



All I, I cried, an pa, says he, 
" Yew little tow-head sinister, 

'At ruster yewrii is er hen. 
An ain't no kind er rnster! " 




SALMON RIVER. 



Per'aps yew never heerd uv it. thet silvery stream 

viv mine. 
Which blinks all day in a drowsy way. where lillies 

bloom an shine. 
It ain't in all the joggerfrys. it's .some too small I 

s'pose. 
It's way down in Connecticut, where wooden nutmegs 

grows. 

It wiggles frum ermongst the hills fur up beyend the 

town. 
Then laughs an groans o'er .stumps an .stones, an 

rushes madh' down 
Tell by an by it stretches out to meet the ebb an 

flow, 
Then marches back an forards like them reglar 

soldiers go. 

Upon the sunny western slope m\- l)oyhood home- 

stid stands, 
A tangled mess uv loveliness the toil uv lovin hands ; 
An frum the summit uv the hill is spread before my 

eyes 
A gorgeous spectacle uv land an water parrerdise. 

2S 



SAI.MON KIVKK 29 

I know jest where the fishes live, an where tlie lilHes 
grow, 

An where the birds talk lovin words, an where the 
mushrats go ; 

I know where sets the eagle an the hawk an fisher- 
king, 

An where tur find new wintergreen, an where the 
wild grapes swing. 

An on the moss-grown bank I set an watch the 

mirrored skies, 
Each great white boat in cloudland float beneath my 

raptured eyes. 
Ah ! Shakespeare never loved /i/s stream no bettern 

I love mine, 
Which blinks all day in a drowsy way where lillies 

bloom an shine. 



MY DADDY'S VIOLIN. 

When daddy face to face did lay 
With that grim monster, death : 

He called me to him and did say 
With his departing breath, 

" Now, Zeke, I'm goin tur leave ye soon, 

( vSho, sho, now don't begin ) 
An promise me tur keep in tune 

Y'r daddy's vierlin. 

" I kennot take it over there, 

Tho' oft I wish I might ; 
So I mus leave it in yeivr care, 

Now promise, Zeke, tur-night. 

" It's cheered my heart fur many years. 

It's kep me frum despair ; 
It's kep away the doubts an fears 

I'v a life full uv care. 

"An Zeke, wen storms uv life rip things. 

Yew take the vierlin 
An draw the bow acrost the strings. 

An let y'r heart jine in. 

" But when I'm gone — there there, m\- l)oy 

Jes la}' it on my breast ; 
An leave it there in silent jo\ 

Tell I am laid tur rest : 



MN' DADDY S \I()I.IX 



' ' 77/(7/ fake it, i/st- if. make it siii;^. 

' IwHI kt'rp yc out iir sin .' ' ' 
Then he fell back, and every string 

Snapped on that violin. 



'Twas years ago that daddy died — 
How quickly they have sped ! 

And oftentimes when sore and tried 
I have been comforted 

As daddy said I would ; and too. 

I have been kept from sin 
By sta\ing in the long nights through 

To iila\- his violin. 




DADS BIG MELON PATCH. 

Tliere wuz a time, in early spring, 1 dreaded most 

to scratch 
Frum early morn till late at night in dad's big melon 

patch. 
The patch it looked ten acres long by seven acres 

wide. 
An ever\' hill a mountain top, with valleys close 

beside. 

An then the hoe I hed to use weighed all uv twenty 

pound. 
An strained the sockets uv my arms at every stroke 

an bound ; 
The soil, tho' light, it seemed to hug the dusty earth 

like lead, 
An every hill I hed to make choked up my soul with 

dread. 

An every year in early spring I dreaded most to 

scratch 
With heavy hoe an achin hand in dad's big melon 

patch . 
Yew see the river lay close by, an sparkled in the 

sun, 
Jes tantalizin uv my soul with every gleam it .spun ; 

32 



dad's HIC. MIU.ON I'ATCH 33 

An every ripple, all day long, jes beckoned nie 

aside. 
An showed nie where a fish lay hid beneath the silver 

tide. 
An wen all this wnz hanntin nie. how could a feller 

scratch 
With stiddy stroke an right good will in dad's ol 

melon patch ? 

But wen the autumn sun shone warm, an dew lay 

on the grass, 
An we hed shocked the field uv corn, an housed the 

garden sass. 
An wen the nuts begun to turn, an cockle l)urrs to 

catch. 
1 hed no dread to spend an hour in dad's big melon 

patch ! 

Fur there would glisten in the sun them fellers, long 

an green, 
With meller. juicy, red insides. fit fur a king or 

queen ; 
An w'en a-.straddle uv the fence, with melons a hull 

batch. 
I soon furgot my sufferin's in dad's big melon patch. 

An so it is with every soul, the hull great human 

batch, 
We hev our mole-hill mountains here in life's l)ig 

melon patch : 
We murmur an we magnify, an dread to do a job. 
An look out on the river, vearnin fur its lazv throb. 



34 



DAD S BIG MELON I'ATCH 



We lain would throw away the hoe an laze beside 

the stream, 
An let the melons plant themselves, an fish an idly 

dream. 
But wen at la.st success hez come we gobble down 

our catch, 
An soon furgit the trials we've bed in life's big melon 

patch. 




i'(?7t' see t/ie r/Tcr /ay c/ose />y a/i sparkled i/i the sun. 



EUGENE FIELD. 

The little folks' friend has passed away. 

And his pen is covered with rust ; 
For the Lord is good, and he takes his own 

For a higher and nobler trust. 
** O, the years are many, the years are long." 

And our hearts are tried and sore ; 
But we wait, Eugene, till the last great scene, 

To listen and laugh once more. 

The trumpet and drum shall beat and call. 

Though their champion's voice is stilled ; 
And Wynken and Blynken asleep shall fall. 

Of thy fancies their visions filled. 
" O, the years are many, the years are long," 

But in the far-off days to be. 
Thy sweet, sweet rhj-mes of the childhood times 

Shall be sung at the mother's knee. 

And little Boy Blue shall lisp thy name, 

In his mother's arms at eve ; 
And she shall tell of the poet king. 

And thy mystic tales shall weave. 
" O. the years are many, the years are long," 

We fain would learn what they screen : 
But we know thy .songs shall delight the throngs 

Forever and ever, Eugene. 

:!5 



KEEP ON A-FISHIN". 

Suppose the fish don't bite at fust. 

What be yew goin tur dew ? 
Chuck down yewrpole, throw out yewr bait, 

An say yewr fishin threw ? 
Uv course yew hain't, yewr goin tur fish 

An fish an fish an wait 
Until j^ew've ketched yewr basket full. 

An used up all yewr bait. 

Suppose success don't come at fust. 

What be yew goin tur dew ? 
Throw up the sponge, an kick yewrself. 

An go tur feelin blew ? 
I'v course yew hain't, yewr goin tur fish. 

An bait an bait ergin ; 
Binieby success will bite yewr hook. 

An jew will pull him in. 




EVERY DAY. 

Life is growin brighter. 

Every day ; 
vSoiils are growin whiter 

Every day. 
Birds are singin sweeter. 
Girls are lookin neater. 
Life it grows completer 

Ever}' day. 

What's the use uv sighin 

Any day ? 
What's the use uv cry in 

Any daj' ? 
Wear an tear is killin, 
Sorrer is tew willin. 
Don't good tears be spillin 

Any day. 

Keep yewT song a-goin 

Every day ; 
Keep yewr music flowin 

Every day. 
Cast off sad repinin. 
Shine the murky linin, 
Keep the sun a-shinin 

Everv dav. 



A DREAM OF LIZZARI) CRICK. 



Tuniight my heart is longiii an in\- pulse is beatin 
quick, 

Cu/. my thoughts hev gone a-drittin to the banks uv 
Lizzard Crick ; 

To the scenes uv child an boyhood, to the stream I 
wooed an won, 

Where the lillies on its bosom nod an sparkle in the 
sun. 

An I see the grasses wavin an I hear a little " swish." 

An I know it is a mushrat or a greedy, startled fish. 

An I reach my hand beside me, then I draw it back- 
ward quick 

When I find I (rtV/ a-fishin on the banks uv Lizzard 
Crick. 

I kin see the darkened eddies where the water circles 

roun. 
Bearin chips an foamy white-cups, ever ridin up an 

down ; 
I kin see the slantin shadders ez they play ercrost 

the stream. 
An the winders threw the l)ranches castin here an 

thire a sfleam. 



A DRKAM OF I.IZZAKI) CKICK 



39 



I kin see the sandy bottom where the smaller stream 

unites, 
Kver creepin further, further, ez each grain uv sand 

alights. 
An I laugh ez I remember how our toes would never 

stick 
To the bottom ez we youngsters tried tur wade ercrost 

the crick ! 



Frum the bend al)Ove the footbridge I kin hear a 

boy's " halloo," 
An 1 know thet Hill Buzze>' is a-comin crickward 

too ; 




40 A DREAM OK I.IZZAKD CRICK 

An I answer with a warwhoop thet goes ringin down 

the glen. 
An in less'n haf a niinnte we are " strippin off " 

ergen ! 
•* * * •» « * 

() the river's way off >en(ler, miles an miles beyend 

my gaze ; 
Years hev come an jears hev wandered since them 

keerless, happy days ; 
Hut thank Ciod my dreams lie closer, an they crowd 

my vision thick, 
While my heart beats warm e/, ever fur the banks uv 

Li/.zard Crick. 



DOWN ON THE MILL STREAM. 

vSome rave about the Pallersades 

Down on the Hudson river ; 
An some about Niagara falls 

Thet make a feller shiver. 
An some will long tur see the land 

Where Shakespeare lived an writed. 
An some the city uv Paree 

Thet's alius gay an lighted. 
But ez fur me, jest humly me. 

Fur years I've sorter wished 
Thet I could see the ol mill stream 

Where long ago I fished. 

An folks will go in extercy 

About the land u\ flowers, 
An on the field uv Gettysburg 

Waste many precious hours : 
Then come along tur Washington 

( I kinder hate tur pen it ) 
An heng around tur shake the hand 

Uv president an senate. 
But ez fur me, jest humly me. 

'Twould make me fairly scream 
Tur shake ergen the hand uv Ben 

Down b\- the ol mill stream. 



42 



DOWN ON THE JNIILL STKKA:\I 



An I would give my hull estate 

Once more tur go in swimmin 
Off frum the rocks at alius wuz 

>Shunned by the gals an wimmin. 
Ah yes, them places uv repute 

No doubt hev many pleasures ; 
Them moozeums an battle grounds 

ITv antick relic treasures. 
But ez fur me, jest humly me. 

I hev but one life dream ; 
An thet's tur spen a week with hen 

Down on the ol mill stream. 




LABOR TO CAPITAL. 

M>- heart is sick and my soul is sick 

Of the shameful greed of men ; 
Of the endless crush and the headlong rush 

That stifles this world of ken. 
O, the heedless strife and the needless strife 

Which blackens the skies that be ; 
It is all for gain that we suffer pain, 

And it cripples both you and me. 

I'm sick of the rich man's avarice. 

Of his daily poorhouse dread ; 
I'm sick of the strife that haunts the life 

Of the soul who toils for bread. 
The poor man's snarl and the rich mans sneer 

Go ringing from sea to sea : 
And the discord jars from the earth to stars, 

And it rankles both you and me. 

I'm sick of the sight and sound of trade. 

'Tis nothing but Crodless schemes : 
And the fool who dreams of his honest schemes 

Is a dreamer of Godless dreams. 
But there is a way, if we only would. 

To lighten the burdens that be : 
To sweeten the life and kill this strife. 

And it rests with both vou and me. 



BILLY HUZZEY. 



Yew all know Billy Buzzey cuz yew see him every- 
where. 

Jest look out on the corner an yew're sure tur find 
him there ; 

Look up or do\\n the river, or in any hidin j^lace 

An \ ew'U find Billy Buzzey there with freckles on 
his face. 

They ain't a blessed thing in town at Billy doesn 
know. 

They ain't a blessed danger place at Billy wouldn 
go : 

Fact Billy he's a wonder, jest a bottom dollar brick. 

The same ez my ol Billy on the banks uv Lizzard 
Crick. 



Billy Buzze_\ . Billy Buzzey, 

I am writin this tur yew : 
Billy Buzzey. Billy Buzzey. 

Dear ol Billy tried an true ! 
Years may come an years may wander. 

We're ai:)art an older grown : 
But I'll love yew Billy Buzzey. 

Jest ez long ez love is known. 
u 



Bii.i.v lu'zzEV 45 

O the days with Billy Buzzey, wen so carefully we 

stole 
To the bridge behind the sawmill an unwound our 

fishin pole ; 
How cautiously we flattened on the warped an twisted 

plank 
Tur see ef any shiners wuz a hidin neath the bank. 
Billy Buzzey he could ketch em wen no other feller 

could, 
He could track a coon or otter threw the thickest uv 

the wood ; 
He could climb the highest tree top. he would never 

take a stump, 
An they warn't no secli a fighter in the hull nv Ciun- 

gawamp ! 

Billy Buzzey, liilly Buzzey, 

I am writin this tur yew ; 
l^illy Buzzey, Billy Buzzey, 

Dear ol Billy good an true. 
Years may come an years may wander. 

An we kennot stop their flow, 
But I'll love yew, Billy Buzzey, 

Long ez love is mine tur know. 



SING A SONCx. 

Sing a song nv Hope, sir, 

Ef yew are bound tur sing 
A million ears are list'nin 

Tur hear its cheery ring. 
A .song uv praise is precious, 

A song uv truth is blest : 
A song uv love is pretty, 

A song nv Hope is />t'st. 

Sing a song uv Hope, sir. 

An sing it with a zest ; 
A million souls are weary, 

A-waitin fur its rest. 
A song uv praise is welcome, 

Tur toller care an strife : 
A song uv joy is restful, 

A song u\- Hope is ///<'. 



THE SUMMKR I'lUU.IX. 

I like the suininer leelin with its ha/,>-. lazy air. 
An its soft an dro\vs>- whisper threw the trees : 

1 like its nieller music which is risin everywhere, 
Kruni the waterfalls an thrushes an the drone uv 

l)usy bees. 

() I like the summer feelin with itsdrows\- monotone. 

I'v toads an bugs an locusts, an the crickets' inter- 
lude : 

I like tur lie an listen with the branches o'er me 
thrown 

Where the brooklet meets the river an the medder 
meets the wood. 

Yes. I like the summer feelin cu/. it fills my huno:ry 

soul 
With a glow u\- healthy ha]i]>eruess thet nuthin else 

kin do ; 
An I look up threw the 1)ranches where the great 

white cloudlets roll. 
An I feel myself a-driftin off tur worlds beyend the 

1)lue. 

With the windin Crick l)eside me. an the restful skies 

above. 
An a tangled mess nv mosses l\in "neath me for a 

bed : 

47 



4^ THK Sr.M.MKK KKKLIX 

An a splash uv suninier feelin fniin the green-clad 

hills I love. 
An a strain uv Xatur's music runnin \vildl\- threw my 

head. 

Do yew know the summer feelin? If yew don't then 

steal away 
Where the medder meets the woodlan an the ]:)rook- 

let meets the stream ; 
Let yewr heart beat tur the music, let yewr loosened 

fancies play, 
An loaf an loiter by the Crick, an dream an dream an 

dream. 



MV OL' DAD. 

There wuz a time once when I had 
More common sense en my ol dad. 
An yuster tell him what wnz what 
Wen he a leetle contry got : 
An wen he tried tur kick up sin 
I hed hard work tur hoi him in. 
The hardes trials them daj's I had 
Wuz in the managemunt uv dad. 

But mother warnt so hard tur hoi ; 
S/ii- alius done ez she wuz tol 
An never tliotight uv sayin no. 
Wen I tol her, "dew so an so." 
S/ie realized jest what I wuz, 
Ez wise ol mothers alius does. 
An kep herself frum day tur da_\', 
Eccordin tew my better way. 

But dad he warnt so bright ez ma. 
An we wuz alius in a jar : 
Tell one day in the onion bed. 
He disobeyed some things I said, 
Wich shocked my dignertw an riled 
My sense uv jestice tell she l)iled. 
An so I sa\s, " It's jest erbout 
Time now we hed this l)izniz out." 



50 



M\ OI. DAI) 



Wall, there aint very much tur tell. 
Twuz sevral days fore I got well ; 
An ma hed tew reseat my pants. 
Wen dad hed finished off his dance. 
An now, ef I remember right, 
I changed my min somewhat thet night 
An ever sence thet summer's day. 
I've let mv daddv hev his wav. 



NOT A CANDIDATE. 

I ain't no kind uv cannerdate lur office here this Fall ; 
I'm out uv politics an sich, an out fur good an all. 
It hain't no use a-coaxiu nve, I won't put down my 

name ; 
I ain't a-hankerin jest now fur town or county fame. 
I've lied my full uv politics, I know the hull durn 

thing. 
An Gungawamp will hev tur run without me in the 

ring. 
A man thet tens tur bi/.zerniz. an keeps his larmin 

straight, 
Ain't got no time fur politics, an I'm no cannerdate. 

No, no ! tut ! tut ! Yew unnerstan I've given yew my 

word : 
Yew fellers air the mos persistin chaps I ever heard. 
Why durn my Ijoots ! ef yew heng on I'll be a gettin 

riled. 
An wen I git my back up, boys. I aint no peaceful 

child. 
I've run fur .slectman forty times, an twenty times 

fur clerk. 
An every time some fellerd l>olt — my ticket wouldn 

work. 
I've jest concluded this ere Fall tur shun yewr 

temptin bait ; 
I dont want none uv politics an I'm no cannerdate. 

51 



52 NOT A CAN 1)1 1) A TK 

O, >aas I \ ewr proiiierses er good, \e\vr argyiiiunts er 

fine : 
I'll "sweep the county " an I'll bring the " doubtful" 

inter line. 
A hundred cash will dew it all — \ew think I'm ]nirty 

green ; 
Yew are the nios persistin chaps thet I hev ever seen. 
Now look\- here. I tol yew oncc^. I'm gittin purty 

mad ; 
Altho el I ^vv//-/ sweep the town it wouldn be so bad. 
Why durn my boots ! I blieve I kin : I'll try at any 

rate ; 
liring u]) some cider, Mar>- Ann. fur I'm er canner- 

date 1 



PICK'RKL IX WINTER. 

I know where spreads a sih ry stream, 

A stretch uv pure delight ; 
Between two lines uv ghostly hills, 

Now frosty, cold an white. 
I see long miles uv glistnin snow. 

I hear the forest wail ; 
I hear the rumble uv the ice 

Which thunders down the vale. 

Mayhap yew think its lonely there, 

An wouldn keer tur go 
Where lies a foot or two uv ice, 

An two or more uv snow, 
lif thet is how > ew feel, my friend. 

In town so snug an nice, 
I guess yew never yit hev pulled 

A pick'rel threw the ice. 



MARY ANN. 

We lived turgether on the fann, my parents. Dan an 

nie. 
An we wnz happy an content ez any folks could be : 
Tell mother, bless her weary eyes, who wnzznt over 

stout, 
Grew sort o' weak an all run down, an needed helpin 

out. 
vSo wen Bill vSmith. the drunkard, died, a wuthless 

sort uv man. 
We tuk his little orphan gal whose name wnz Mary 

Ann. 
A sweet-faced child ez ever wu/,, we loved her. Dan 

an me. 
An uster ask her. boyish like, whose gal she wu/, tur 

be. 

An she would look frum me tur Dan an en frum Dan 
tur me. 

Her lustrous eyes a-pleadin like yit full uv witchery. 

An sa>' with voice raal low an sweet, (tur still a pet- 
ty fuss. ) 

At wen she growed up big enough she'd hev the both 
uv us ! 

The years sped on. yit neither gained the so called 
inside track : 



M A R \' A X X 



:)0 



Weiiever Dan dniwed her tur sclujol I alius drawed 

her back. 
An cla_\" by day her face wore signs iiv sweet per- 
plexity : 
Becuz she didn keer fur Dan no uioren she did fur nie. 
vShe uster tell us uv a love, a love we never knew. 
An said at all would share alike if they wuz good an 

true : 
But all the love I keerd about wuz thet uv Mary Ann, 
But she, she didn keer fur nie no nioren she did fur 

Dan. 
Then Mary Ann grew beautiful, how beautiful wuz 

she! 
Her step, her smile, herevry act wuz grace an purit\- : 
An each wuz longin fur the lime wen he would be a 

man. 
An Dan he sorter scowled at me an I scowled back at 

Dan. 

Then (), the change at come to us, it's burned into 

my brain. 
An all the power uv Heaven an arth kin ne'er remove 

the pain : 
Our Mary Ann tuk strangely sick, an one bright 

April day 
W'e laid her vender on the hill then turned our steps 

away. 
An wen we come in sight uv home Dan ]ieared tur 

feel so bad 
At I. tho shameful ez it wuz, got sorter riled an mad. 
A" gritted threw m\- tight sliet teeth, with rage an 

jealous\ : 



56 MAKY ANN 

" Yew needn feel so tarnal l)ad. she thouj^ht llie most 

uv »it' y 

Hut Dan he never said one word, an many weeks 

went by, 
An en we noticed paler cheeks an dim-like i^rew his 

eye ; 
An wen he lay in l)ed one night I stole \\\) to his side 
An ast lurgiveness arter wliicli we both shnk hans 

an cried. 
An there within Ihet darkned room I knelt h\ him tur 

pray. 
An ast thet frum m}- youthful heart all sin be washed 

away ; 
An l)v his bedside on my knees a newer faith began ; 
The faith which alius seemed a part uv sweet-faced 

Mary Ann. 

An wen Dan died one winter's night I sorter wished 

twuz me, 
Becuz I knew at he would go beyend the Jasper Sea. 
An there would find sweet Mary Ann in angel robes 

uv white. 
Who'd welcome him with suiniy smiles an ol time 

love an light. 
Ah, tliet wuz many years ago ; an \it it seems ez clear 
Ez tho it wuz but yisterday I saw em standi n here. 
But wether she wuz his or mine /'ve sworn tur l)e 

a man. 
An I would love em were they here, both Dan an 

Marv Ann. 



FISHIX" BY AX" nV. 

The earth is growin greener. 

An the air is gittin cleaner. 
They's a sort uv happy twinkle in the dinijiles uv 
the sky ; 

Evrybody's steppin lightly, 

Evry eye is shinin brightly, 
Cuz we're all a-goin fishin In an hy. 

Down the hrook the birds er singin. 

On the hills the cow bells riiigin. 
In the fiel's the jilows er cnttin threw the sod so bare 
an dry ; 

In the house the women's churnin. 

At the school the boys er learnin. 
An evr\ bodx's happ\- tor the fishin by an 1)>-. 

Fishin In- an b\ . 

With an angle worm an fly ; 

We are much obleeged tur natur. 

She's a bloomin sweet pertater. 

Cuz she let's us o;o a-fishin b\- an 1)\-. 



WITH MABEL, NITTIXC;. 

In the golden antnnni snnsliine. 

With a joyons step and tread. 
Do I go with Mabel nutting, 

Where the chestnut branches spread. 
Mabel laughs and Mabel frolics, 

Mabel singeth like a dove ; 
Mabel doesn't fill her basket. 

But she fills my heart with love. 

Nuts are brown and plenty, 
Skies are pure and white ; 

But Mabel is the picture 
That captivates nie quite. 

Through the woods I stroll with Mabel, 

To the winding homeward lane ; 
With the promise in my bosom 

That I've tried so long to gain. 
Mabel laughs and Mabel frolics, 

Mabel rompeth and is coy ; 
Mabel hasn't filled her basket. 

But she's filled my heart with joy. 

Nuts are brown and plenty, 
Skies are pure and white : 

But Mabel is the picture 
That captivates me quite. 

."•.8 



THE BIMEBY TIME. 

Wen the Bimeby Time conies roun this way 
Wen the Bimeby Time comes roun ; 

There'll be less work an lots more play, 
There'll be less hours an lots more pay, 

An common men will hev more say. 
Wen the Bimeby Time conies roun. 

Wen the Bimeby Time conies roun ; 

O I long tur hear the soun ; 
So I'm sittin an a-mopin, 

An a-gropin an a-hopin, 
Tell the Bimeby Time conies roun. 

Wen the Bimeby Time once gits in view, 
Wen the Bimeby Time gits roun ; 

We'll hev free trade an tariff tew, 

Hard times won't trouble me nur yew. 

An Sunday'll las the hull week threw, 
Wen the Bimeby Time conies roun. 

Wen the Bimeby Time conies roun, 

O I long tur hear the soun ; 
So I'm sittin an a-mopin, 

An a-gropin an a hopin. 
Tell the Bimebv Time conies roun. 



DAD'S OL GRINDSTONE. 

Under a spreadin russet bough, 

Uncared for an alone. 
Threw summer's sun an winter's snow 

Hez stood dad's ol grindstone. 
An I in fancy see it now 

Ahnos with weeds o'ergrown. 

How well I recollect each morn 

Thet dad would call tur me. 
At break uv day tur come an turn 

The stone beneath the tree. 
An every whirl she 'ud squeak an groan. 

An much exerted be. 

My hands would blister, peel an tear. 

But I made ne'er a face : 
Twuz better tur be blistered there 

Then on some other place. 
So while the lark-songs filled the air 

The grindin went apace. 

I steal frum town life oft in ruth 
An look the old scenes threw : 

An though it sounds a bit uncouth 
I find these words come true ; 

" The work I dreaded so in youth, 
I now would gladly do." 

GO 



dad's Oh GRINDSTONE 6l 

I'm turnin now the stone uv life, 

A-grindin fortune's blade ; 
With nicks an cracks extreniel}- rife 

An ruther poorly made. 
An oft the stone squeaks in the strife 

Like dad's beneath the shade. 



SMILES AND TEARS. 

I've seen the summer's sun aflame, 

While weeping were the changeful skies 

I've seen a woman smile the same, 
While pearly tears shone in her eyes. 

And both brought visions unto me, 

And l)oth were beautiful to see. 



THE TIMES THAT USED TO BE. 



" r m always thinkiti, think in, irr the times that uscit to 

be. 
Where the springs and golden antumns flushed the friendly 

fields of Lee : 
An as I look baek yonder, on them fur off plains an 

skies, 
IV/e snn may be a-shinin, but it's lainin roun my eyes l'" 

— Frank L. Stnntoii in " Soiifis of Tlif Soil.'' 



I, too, am alius thinkin uv the days uv long ago ; 

I cannot seem to help it sence they crowd my vision so. 

A-thinkin, thinkin, thinkin while the golden moments 
flee, 

Uv the days uv happy childhood, an the times that 
used to be. 

They's people alius thinkin uv the pleasures yet to 
come ; 

I'll admit anticipation occeypies my leisure some, 

But furever Fm a-thinkin uv the days that uster be. 

Uv the days down in the country where the atmos- 
phere is free. 



THE TIMKS THAT I'SED TO BE 63 

Uv the singin brooks an iiiedders, broken teiices. 
tumbled walls, 

Vv the sunshine thro' the branches an the splashin 
waterfalls ; 

Uv the cave off in the mountains, playin " Huckle- 
berry Finn," 

An the Injun huts an wigwams, an the battles we 
wuz in. 

There wuz " Theerdore's brook " in summer where 

we learned to swim, by jo I 
Don't you remember, Arth' an Alvin ? Bet you can't 

furgit it ; no. 
An the sawmill with the kerriage where we uster set 

an ride : 
The mill-pond where the shiners much preferred to 

stay inside ! 
The raftin thire on Cowdrey's, an the ships we sent 

afloat, 
An the argerments presented on who owned the tastes 

boat. 
O, life wuz worth the livin but we didn't know it 

then : 
It is only that we .see it when we're sad an busy 

men . 
But it makes life all the sweeter, an it brings a rest 

to me 
To look away off yender on the days that uster be. 
O, the days that u.ster be. boys, thank God fur 

everv one ! 



64 



THK TIMES THAT VSKD TO HE 



I wouldn't swap my memories fur all that's 'neath the 

sun. 
An you boys in the countryside jest fill your souls 

with it ; 
Jest sozzle in the sunshine an preserve it every bit. 
Then when you've grown to busy men, you'll hev, 

the same as me, 
A golden store uv memories, ' ' the davs that uster be." 






'TJ^ifi^ 



PICKRELIN ON LIZZARI) CRICK. 



Yew take it in the inorniii wen the sun is cloudetl in. 
Wen fruni off the water's risin jest a steamy vapor 

thin. 
An push yewr boat erniongst the pads where lillies 

nod at 3'ew, 
Ats wen the pickrel take a bait an take it spiteful, 

tew. 
They aint no fishin equal tew it an}- place j-ew go : 
A limber pole, a cotton line, a swish, a heave an tow. 
Yew jerk yewr bait erlong the aige an purty .soou 

yewll see 
A sudden swirl, a silvr\- gleam, a tuggin enermy. 
An then yew pull with all yewr might, with knees an 

elbows stiff. 
An out will come a pickerel a-headin fur the skiff. 

Ive fished fur many kinds uv fish in brook an lake an 

sea. 
But pickrel fishin on the Crick is good enough fur 

me ; 
They aint no gittin ready, with a lot uv fuss an frills. 
They aint no scientific talk erbout the fly thet kills ; 
They aint no stringin up uv gear, uv patent lines an 

hooks. 



66 PICKRELIN ON I.IZZARD CRICK 

An argermunts fur playin game yew read erbout in 

books. 
Its jest a throw ermongst the pads, an slop yewr l)ait 

erlong, 
An purty soon yewr line will taut an settle downward 

strong, 
An then yew pull with all yewr might, with knees an 

elbows stiff. 
An out will shute a pickerel a-headin fur the skiff. 

They aint no fishin equal tew it any place yew go : 
A long cane pole, a cotton line, a swish, a heave an 

tow. 
Its mewsic tur my fishin ear tur hear it swish an 

spat 
Upon the surface uv the Crick fust thisaway an that. 
I'd ruther stan thire in the boat an swing a limber 

pole 
Then be the leader uv a band, I would upon my 

soul I 
I'd ruther feel the tuggin uv a pickrel on my line 
Then hoi a pair uv bosses uv the lates bob design. 
Yaas f/r, give me a pickerel fur good, excitin fun. 
An Lizzard Crick fur liackgroun an my happerness 

is won ! 



NATURE'S INSTRUMENT. 

The brook which rambles on its way 

And whirls beneath the old brush fence, 

Makes music in my ear today, 
As one of Nature's instruments. 

I seem to hear it dash along. 

Impatient at the hindering stones ; 
Then leaping gaily in its song 

Of mingled joy and monotones. 

Oft when a boy if aught I had 
A passing sense of worldly pain. 

The cadence of that brook-song glad 
Restored my happy self again. 

Today, above the irksome round, 

To which this noisy world gives vent. 

I hear a sweet, relieving sound, 
The strain of Nature's instrument. 



CHILDHOOD POEMS 



A GOOD-NIGHT SONG. 
I. 

Mother croons a good-night song. 

Close your eyes m\' dearie ; 
Fairies round a wee one throng. 

Close your eyes ni\- dearie. 
Close your eyes while mother sings. 
Hear the dip of fairy wings, 
Night a peaceful slumber brings. 
Close your eyes my dearie. 

Close your eyes, 

Little dear ; 
In the skies 

Stars appear. 
Thro' the light 

Shadows creep ; 
Dear, good-night, 

Go to sleep. 

II. 

Bylo-land in slumber lies, 
Close your eyes my dearie ; 

Angels watch you from the skies. 
Close your eyes my dearie. 

70 



A C'rOOD-XUiHT SONG 



71 



vSluniber while the night wind sigh^ 
Shunber ere the twilight flies. 
Dream of love and lullabies, 
(-"lose your e\es my dearie. 

Close your eyes. 

Little dear ; 
In the skies 

Stars shine clear. 
Fades the light. 

Shadows creep ; 
Dear good-night, 

CjO to sleep. 




POPPERTVS CtIRL 



Popperty's g^irl has eyes of l;)r()\vn. 
And her cheeks are round and pink : 

Her hair is brown. 

And as soft as down. 
And curly as you can think. 

Popperty's girl can talk, ah \es. 
She talks from morning till night ; 

And so good is she 

She climl)s to my knee 

And offers to hel]) me write. 

Thus she steals my time day after day. 

For popperty never could send her away 

It's popperty this and i)oi)perty that. 

And " popperty peet-a-boo ; " 
And "popperty /n-n\" 

And " pop])erty ih-ttr." 

And " popperty boo- woo- woo ! 



i>()1'I'i:ktv s giki. 

And then I toss lier high in the air. 

Aiul give her a gentle whirl ; 
And she laughs and crows. 

And pulls at my nose. 

P"or she is ])opperty's girl ! 




HER OLD RUBBER DOLE. 



The Rulil^er Doll whistles, the Rubber Doll squeaks, 
The Rubber Doll listens and mutters and speaks ; 
It jumps and it tumbles and oft has a fall, 
But nothing can equal her old Rubber Doll. 

A hundred times a day our little one kisses it. 
A hundred times a day our little one misses it, 

A hundred times a day she makes it squall ; 
Then she catches it and blesses it. 
And smooths it and caresses it. 

And talks very knowing to her old Rul)ber Doll. 

The Rubber Doll scolds and the Rubber Doll squawks. 
The Rubber Doll whimpers and grumbles and talks ; 
It moans and it cries with a pitiful call. 
But baby just worships her old Rubber Doll. 

A hundred times a day our little one sighs for it, 
A hundred times a day our little one cries for it, 

A hundred times a day she lets it fall ; 
Then she catches it and snugs it up. 
And drowsil)^ she hugs it up, 

And drops off to slumber with her old Rubber Doll. 

74 



A KRAVH LITTLE SOLDIER. 



I've just been reading history, a])out the good old 

days, 
About our soldiers fighting, and the Injun's wicked 

ways ; 
About the British and the Yanks who fought at 

Bunker Hill. 
And how the North and South stood ground as only 

sdA/u'/s will. 

I tell you men were mighty brave and mighty daring 

then. 
And I just wish 'at I were big as all the other men : 
I'd like to fight 'itli guns and swords, and be a 

soldier too ; 
Right in thickest of the fight — hurrah ! now wouldn't 



What's 'at you say ? I didn't hear; oh, yes, I did 

forget 
To shut the chickens up, mamma, but I will do it yet. 
Dear suz, it's dark, my I what was 'at? It gave me 

such a fright ! 
I can't — boo hoo — shut up the h-hens, 'less someone 

holds a light ! 



THE ACTOR'S CHILD. 

The brilliant streets were full of folk, 

All hastening up and down ; 
And everywhere was life and light, 

Within the noisy town. 
And some were laughing on their wa\- 

And some were silent, sad ; 
And some were good and noble folk, 

And some maj'hap were bad. 

But ever, ever on the move. 

The great throng hurried by : 
Each one upon some mission bent, 

None caring where or why. 
But in one lately joyous home. 

Behind dark walls and still : 
I'pon a dainty bed of white. 

An actor's child lay ill. 

All day the anxious mother watched, 

The hand of death to stay : 
The father, but one hour before, 

Rushed from the matinee. 
And now the clock had .spoken six, 

The doctor shook his head ; 
" An hour, or two, not more than four. 

And that was all he .said. 



THK ACTOK S CHILD 

Seven drew near, the actor's brain, 

It seemed, would drive him wild ; 
He knew his might}- call to go. 

But could not leave his child. 
The parents' hands were clasped in love. 

But neither moved nor spoke : 
And when the timepiece chimed again, 

The little one awoke. 

vShe half arose and looked around — 

A heavenly face had she ; 
And something seemed to whisper that 

She neared eternity. 
" Papa," she said, " it's seven o'clock, 

I counted every chime ; 
It's very late, why don't you go ? 

You won't — be — there — in — time." 

" My child I cannot go to-night. 

My little one is ill ; 
I could not leave you, dearest girl. 

Now keep you very still." 
" Not go to-night? O, dear papa, 

You shan't stay here with me: 
You must go out, and make them laugh. 

Why —don ' t — why can ' t — you — see, 

" The people would feel awful bad, 
Christmas would be so dear ; 

What would so many people do 
Without you. papa dear ? 



THE actor's CHILI) 

Xow go ; please go ; my God is good, 

He doesn't need yon here ; 
He's telling me to have you go. 

Please — go —now. papa — dear. ' ' 

One moment more 'twould be too late. 

The darling slept once more ; 
The actor, true to art and love. 

In sorrow paced the floor. 
" O, God ! " he cried, in silent plea. 

" Give unto me thine ear ; 
Where lies my duty, guiding one. 

O, be it there, or here ! " 

The loving wife stole to his side, 

And. pointing, he knew where. 
She whispered, like a guiding voice. 

" Your duty lieth there. 
Go ; go my husband, do her will. 

She's in our Father's care ; " 
And almost reeling to her side. 

He kissed the golden hair. 

" O, (rod ! forgive me, should she die, 

And I be far away ; " 
And out he rushed, a burdened man, 

To play the light and gay. 
And folk were pleased with him that night, 

■' A brilliant star," they said : 
But every call stabbed deep his heart. 

And none knew how it bled. 



Til}'; ACTOK S CHII.l) 



79 



The curtain tell, in costume bold, 

He ran into the street. 
And hailed a cabman, whom he knew. 

And home was driven fleet. 
And when he saw the mother's face. 

He knew his flower was dead ; 
" But God was good." tlie mother smiled, 

" vShe woke no more," she said. 




WftR POEMS 

1898—1899. 




.■ ■"■•^■irttj.^ V --/- '■ -^■■-i-;^^!y.»raiM,ijar..w-^"i '.-^nntSmttktlk 



SINKING THK MERRIMAC. 



(Santiago Harbor June ,^, iSy8.) 

Into the night she steamed away, 
While an awful silence fell : 

Straight lor the monsters dark and grin 
Glutted with shot and shell. 

Sombre and swift and silent. 

Scarcely a whispered breath ; 
( )n. on towards Santiago, 

On to success or — death. 

Grim headlands rose in the distance, 
Old Morro guarding the l)a\ ; 

Waiting with limbered Hontorias, 
Waiting for a hated ]>rey. 

They sleep ! 'I'heu apast the entrance 

Leaving a tell-tale track. 
Into the sharp curved channel 

Swept the bold Merrimac. 



»^4 SINKIXC'r THK MKKKI^rAC 

" What's that ? The enemy's picket ? 

A launch — the_\- see us — 'tis bad I 
A shot — three pounder — they're fig^hting, 

(rod, is the tiny thing mad?" 

Tlien a Hglit flashed over the darkness. 

The enemy sprang to their arms : 
The fleet and the forts awakened, 

The night was rent with alarms. 

Tliey tried to swing her crosswise. 
Her helm she would not obey ; 

For the nosing, pursuing picket 
Had shot her rudder away I 

Shot and shell from the fleet at anchor. 
Shot and shell from shore and sliore ; 

Torpedoes and mines upheaving, 
A deafening, hellish roar; 

A storm of iron hail shrieking. 

Closer the missies fell : 
(lUns flashed, and the darkness oi)ened 

Like gaps in a roaring hell 

Till it seemed as if ship and heroes 
Must l)e ground beneath the tide. 

Uut the Ciod of War directed. 
And the angr\- shots flew wide. 



siNKiNc; THic mi-;krimac 

l<"earles.sly they worked and quickly, 
Teeth set and l)ra\-e to a man ; 

" On deck ! " rang the clear, sharp order. 
' ' Cut loose the catamaran ! ' ' 

And then the gallant commander, 
WMien all was well with his crew. 

Accomplished in one hurried moment 
What the enemy failed to do. 

He touched the explosives, and .straightway 
With a hot, .spasmodic breath, 

The Merrimac heaved in the middle 
And sank to her glorious death. 

A cheer went up from the Spaniards, 

And the firing died away ; 
And they found eight floating heroes 

On a raft at break of day. 

Not a soul was harmed among them, 
P'or the Ciod of War had planned, 

Antl the Prince of the vSpanish na\'y 
Bore them in safety to land. 

(ireat deeds ha\ e been tlone in battle, 

Of valor there is no lack : 
Hut none have been greater, braver, 

Than the dash of the Merrimac. 



'• RKMKMKER THE MAIXK." 

When wavering o'er \our nation's jMMde. 

When moments of peace steal in : 
When lear and courage run side hv side 

At the thought of battle's din. 

RcnicmhtT t/tc Miiiiir .' 

When reading sweet messages of ])eace. 

When slumber falleth at night : 
When doubt and fears by day increase. 

When asking your (iod for light. 

Roni'uibcr the A/dhu- .' 

When sighting across a bar of steel 

At devils who pose as men. 
List to our dead sailors' mute appeal. 

Remember. () comrades, then. 

Rrnieinbcr f//r Maine .' 




THI' (UNC^AWAMP WAR PROPHKT. 

He sot eroim the* \-illao^e store all threw the recent 

war. 
Explainin tew the other chaj^s what this an that wn/. 

lor: 
An ev'r\- time a move wuz made upon the Ian or sea. 
Resultin in our victory, "I tol yew so." said he. 
E/ early ez the Maine went down, he knew 'twu/. 

goin tur be : 
"I tol yew they would do it. hoys. I tf)l yew so." 

said he. 
An wen George I)ewe\ sunk the fleet uv Adm'ral 

Montejo, 
" I tol yew he could do it. boys, yew know I tol 

yew so." 

An wen Cevera's loafin ]dace wuz I'oun with skill 
an care. 

Jim Martin tol us ev'ry one he knowed thet he wuz 
there ; 

An wen the Merrimac wuz sunk beneath the rest- 
less tide. 

Jim Martin smoked his pipe an lowed 'twuz what he 
proffersied. 

Cevera's dash, an Sampson's chase, an Santiago's 
fall. 

An Miles's gran rece])tion. an the welcome protocol. 



NS 



Tine (ilXC.AWA.Ml' WAK I'K()IMn:T 



W'uz all foreseen by Jim, altho he kep the facts away, 
I'ntil he'd read the papers fruiii the city ev'ry day. 
An Gungawanip no prophet hed one hat ez great ez 

Jim, 
Who lowed the board nv strategy should be nv souls 

like him ; 
He knew the ropes Irum stem tur stern, an ev'ry day 

would pose 
In Jones's store an emiersize his mighl\' " tol \"ew 

SOS." 

But while the war wuz goin on Jim's knowledge took 

a slump, 
( )n matters uv importance takin place in (iungawamp; 
An wen wuz twins at Hiram Lord's, Jim wuz a sight 

tur see ; 
An ev'ry one haw-hawed an sa\"s, "we tol' \fcw 

so, " savs we. 




A LATH VOLINTI-J-R. 

I'ln ^oing to \-olunleer, tlial's all, 

I am. 
'Tis not iii\- iiol)le country's call, 

Not vSaiu. 

Poor Will went to the Phili])int'S, 

And fell : 
A \acanc\- at home that means — 

Ah, well! 

He lelt a maiden fair — poor Will- 
Sweet Cirace : 

I'm going to volunteer to fill 
Will's place I 




voi;rxTi{i:R jim. 

Yew see thet field iiv wavin corn, an thet l)ig patch 

11 V wheat ? 
Yew see them orcliards hengin lull ii\- fruit l)otli ri]ie 

an sweet ? 
Yew see my garden loaded down with squashes, peas 

an beans. 
An see thet henyard lull uv fowls, with e.s^i^s behin 

the .scenes ? 
Yew see a hundred head uv slock, them pigs now lat 

tur kill. 
An see five hundred fatted sheej) off grazin on tlie 

hill ? 
Yew see our pantry })rimmin o'er with goodies sweet 

an rare. 
An signs uv farm prosperity, an plent\- everywhere ? 
Ah, yes, it's ben a wondrous \ ear, the like we never 

knew. 
No sech a yieldin up uv cr<)])s sinct- 1)ack in eiglUx - 

two. 

An wen I think uv this here stuff, an Jim way off 

down there, 
It makes me she! m\- fist down hard an curse out my 

dispair. 
I tell >ew .sir, tliey's murder there, it makes my 

anger boil. 



VOLINTKHK JIM 91 

Tur think the>- starved my only boy off thereon Cnl)an 

soil ! 
The\- starved him, sir at .San J nan, long- sence the 

battle's cheer. 
An I grow sick tur think uv it, while we hed plenty 

here. 
A-plenty here at home, sir, an Jim a-starvin there ; 
It makes me shet my fi.st down hard, an curse out mv 

dispair. 
Someone's tur blame fur thet black crime, an nia\ the 

good Lord lead 
Him frum the wrath uv my right arm which burns 

tur squar thet deed ! 

Jim left the farm an jinetl the ranks a brave xoung 

volunteer ; 
Wuz in the charge at San Juan, an wu/.zt't hurt I 

hear, 
But sickness took him down, an then he lay witlnnit 

no care, 
An couldn't eat his rations an he died a-wantin there. 
It's hard tur die in sech a way — it's easy in a figbt. 
Wen one is full uv lo\alt\ , an wen his cause is 

right — 
But, sir, they's vengeance in my heart — it dri\es me 

tur dispair, 
Tur think we hed a-plenty here, an Jim a-starvin 

there I 



SOME HARD QUESTIONS. 

The feller on my knee. 

Says he, 
" What is the war about ? 
What makes they shoot each other down. 
An' blow up ships an' all get drown' ? 
Wh)- can't they do without ? " 
Sa}-s he 
To me. 

Tlie feller on my knee. 

Says he. 
'■ An' has you got to go ? 
An' is you goin' to leave mamma 
An' me, an' march away so far? 
You'll sorry be, I know," 
Says he 
To me. 

The feller on my knee. 

Says he, 
" Will you come back again ? " 
I put him down, I could not speak, 
A tear fell on his upturned cheek — 
" I hate old cruel Spain," 
Says he 
To me. 



KKEP HER vSTEADY, MR. PILOT. 

Let the traitors whine and sliiver, 

Let the weakHngs hide their head.s ; 
Let the cowards knife the victors, 

If they wish to, in the night ; 
Let the purple gore of Bo.ston 

Bite and snarl like quadrupeds, 
We are with you. Bill M'Kinley, 

For we know that you are right. 

Let them turn against the .saviour 

Of the country's policy. 
Whom they worshipped like a Master 

Only back in Ninety Six ; 
Whom they raised to save the nation 

From a dire calamit}- — 
We are with you, Bill M'Kinley, 

Both in war and politics. 

O this flimsy human nature 

When it goes against the grain ; 
O the blindness of a mortal 

When he will not see the light : 
Keep her steady, Mr. Pilot. 

There is sunshine thro' the rain. 
We are with you, Bill M'Kinle\-, 

For we know that vou are risfht. 



THK BATTLESHIP ORFXtON. 

vSiug ho ! a song for the Oregon, 

The warrior of the deep : 
The great sea-hound who with maddened l)Ound, 

And a growl at every leap, 
P>ore down on the fleeing enemy. 

With a fire that scorched and tore 
Till the Spanish fleet she had rushed to meet 

Was smashed against Cuba's shore. 

.Sing ho I a song for the race she ran. 

From the far off Western seas : 
With a whitened jaw, and a hungry ])aw. 

And a cur.se flung to the breeze. 
Boast ye of the fourteen thou.sand miles. 

To avenge her .sister ship ! 
Boast ye of the shot which thundered hot 

From her round and blood-red lip. 

Sing ho ! a song for the cruise she made 

From the West to Manila Bay ; 
With never a halt from flaw or fault. 

And read\- to join the fra\-. 
Then three times three lor the ()reg()n. 

The mightiest dog of war I 
The hope and more of the lives asliore. 

The pride of the Yankee tar. 



Books in 
preparation 



36^ tbe Same autbor. 
MILL BALLADS 

Poems of Factory Life. 

PAPER. 25 CENTS. 

...These poems a.re descripti-ve of S^C^iv England 
factory and <village life, dating from the present back to 
sixty years ago. 'when the little mill under the hill %>as 
peopled <Tvith laughing country girls, and %>hen the 
hours of labor Tvere from daylight till dark the year 
round. cN^hv England factory life is one <vast field of 
romance and poetry. 

SADE THE CRin SON GIRL 

A Romance of Harvard Square. 

A NOVEL. PAPER, 25 CENTS. 

...This story faithfully pictures a side of college life 
never before 'h>ritten for public print. The ad'ventures 
of students, mill girls and ^variety actresses should form 
chapters of interesting and spicy reading. 



AUG R 1899 



